


The Incremental Move-In

by EventHorizon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur Shappey acts a bit odd, Martin should probably question it more than he does...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Incremental Move-In

      “Arthur… what are you doing?”

      “Oh!  Skip… Hi!  Just putting away a few things, Skip… just one or two little things.  Nothing to worry about, Skip.   So… why don’t you go read for a moment or something, Skip and I’ll just finish up here.  Ok, Skip?”

      “Arthur, when you use ‘Skip’ more than four times in a babble, I _am_ going to get suspicious.”

      “Really?  Ok, I’ll remember that.  Which will make things hard sometimes because that’s who you are and if I need to say a lot of things then it might be a bit sticky to get around using your name.  But… oh!  That would be a great game!  Brilliant!   Oh, why didn’t you tell me this sooner because I’ve already lost this round, haven’t I?”

      “I’m sure you’ll have another chance to play today.  Probably several.  Now, will you tell me what you’re trying to hide away in my flat, which is rather pointless since the flat’s the size of your bathroom at home?”

      “Um… like I said, just one or two little things.”

      “ _Things_ is not going to get you off the hook, Arthur.”

      “Ok, well… this bag and those little cans.”

      “Arthur… I know you mean well and I love you for it, but I’ve told you before not to buy food for me.  I’m doing alright for the moment and I don’t need charity.”

      “What?  Oh… OH!  Oh… yeah… buying food for you… sure, Skip.  I won’t do that, I promise.  Nope, not a bit of food for you, even though you really do need to eat more because I don’t think I’m supposed to be able to put my arms around you and be able to reach round far enough to tickle myself, but I’ve got it now and don’t you worry.  No food for Skip.  I’m putting that right in my mental notebook. On it’s own page.  What color marker do you want me to write with?”

      “Your choice.  Now put all of this back in your bag and… Arthur.  This is pet food.”

      “Yes.  I have to admit that it is.“

      “You bought me pet food.”

      “It appears so.”

      “You do realize that _people_ don’t eat pet food.”

      “I guess, but I must say I don’t really understand that.  I mean, Snoopadoop eats everything that I do and I even make her a little plate when it’s just me at home and it’s dinner time and she eats it all!  So if she eats my food, why don’t people eat her food?  It’s just makes sense, really.”

      “Because what they put in pet food is… no, won’t be going there today.  I’m sorry, Arthur… I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, but let’s just put this away and we can donate it to the animal shelter you like to visit.”

      “Brilliant!  Can we go today?  And by today, I mean right now?  That way we can play with the animals for awhile before we have to meet Mum for lunch.  Oh, and she says if you show up looking like a ragamuffin and disgrace her in public she is going to tie you to GERTI’s nose and have Douglas taxi her into a wall.”

      “Duly noted.”

__________

      “CHRIST!  WHAT THE… ARTHUR!”

      “Skip!  What’s wrong?”

      “My foot is what’s wrong.  What with the sharp pieces of plastic trying to push through my skin.”

      “Why would they want to do that?”

      “Probably because I stepped on them.  And, oh look, that cold hard piece of pain was a little bell.  Colorful bits of plastic and shiny little bells… you do see why I would think you could provide me an explanation for this.”

      “That rather does sound like something I might have knowledge of, yes.”

      “Then please enlighten me.”

      “It’s a toy.”

      “A toy?”

      “Yes.”

      “A toy made of plastic and bells.”

      “Yes.”

      “Arthur… I don’t mind in the least if you want to leave toys over here for when your bring Snoopadoop with you, but can you keep them off the floor where I can step on them?”

      “I can!  That’s a great idea!  I’ll bring lots.”

      “But Arthur… be careful what you buy for her.  I mean, this must have been a small toy and fairly delicate.  Snoopadoop’s got a much larger mouth and she, as I am qualified to know, has a strong bite.  This might be rather dangerous to have around for her to play with.

      “Oh… you’re right, I hadn’t thought of that.  That _will_ be something to consider.  And you know, she only bit you because you interrupted her while she was watching telly.  It’s really not best to bother Snoopadoop when she’s found some cartoons to watch.”

      “Yes, well… lesson learned."

__________

      “That is not mine.”

      “The shoes?   No, those are mine.  Remember, Skip, you helped me make them!”

      “Yes, I remember that very well.  We spent half the day finding polar bear stencils and fabric paint.  I’m talking about _that_.”

      “That?”

      “Yes, the _that_ that is under my bed.”

      “You did say I could keep some toys over here and, since we need to protect your tender little feet, I put them all together in one place.”

      “Ok… I understand that.  But, did you have to purchase a pet bed to put them all in when a bag would have done the same thing?”

      “Well, if I bought a bag, it wouldn’t be a bed.”

      “You’re really picking up on that pesky logic thing, aren’t you?”

      “Brilliant!  I’ve been practicing a lot, too.  Anyway… what was the question, again?”

      “Nothing… I think I’ve got it sorted.”

      “Oh good!  Can we go for a walk now?  I’ve brought bread and we can feed the ducks.”

      “Sure, love.  Anything you’d like.”

      “And visit the animal shelter?”

      “Ok, if that’s what you want.”

      “Then what are we waiting for!”

      “For you to put on your polar bear shoes.”

__________

      “Arthur… is there a reason you bought a purple bracelet with little mice on it.”

      “It’s _very_ nice.”

      “Oh… that it is.”

      “And, I hadn’t thought about it, but it would look smashing with my new shoes.”

      “The ones with the cats and sunflowers?”

      “Exactly.  You know, Skip, I do believe I’m becoming quite fashionable.”

      “In the most fantastically unique way possible”

      “Really?  Brilliant!”

__________

      “Oh no!”

      “Hmmmm…. what the?  AAAHHH!!! I’m being attacked!”

      “Skip!  WAIT!  Put the pillow down!  No, don’t hit it!”

      “Arthur!  What in the hell…”

      “It’s ok, Archie… come away from the silly man.  There, that’s a good boy.”

      “Arthur Shappey.  Arthur I-Love-You-But-This-Had-Better-Be-Good Shappey… what is that?”

      “This?”

      “Yes, the wriggling ball of fur in your hands that just attacked my face.”

      “It didn’t attack your face, Skip.  It just… you were snoring and you know that one curl that flops down sometimes, well, it was bobbing up and down, because you were snoring and it was really loud snoring with lots of air and… I think Archie got a bit overexcited.”

      “Archie… that thing’s name is Archie?”

      “Not a thing, Skip, a cat!  And his full name is Archibald.  I thought that would be a great name since he has this little bald spot where this horrid and mean and rude cat gave him a terrible swat and now we have to wait until his hair grows back.  But, his name will still be Archibald, since it wouldn’t be fair to confuse the poor thing just because of his hair.”

      “Why is there a cat in my flat?”

      “Brilliant!  That’s like Dr. Seuss!  You’re amazing, Skip… you know those are almost nearly my favorite books!”

      “Oh no, you’re not distracting me, Arthur Shappey.  Why have you brought a vicious beast into my flat.”

      “Archie’s not vicious!  In fact, he’s sort of the opposite of vicious because he’s the sweetest, nicest, little cat in the world.  And he’s been at the shelter for awhile now because… well, see his leg?  They weren’t… they weren’t too nice to him at his first home and his leg is a bit wonky now and he’s missing some of this ear and they think he’s a bit hard of hearing in that ear, too and, well there’s also that his tail makes sort of a detour there in the middle… I don’t understand it but people don’t want a cat that’s not got four good legs and two good ears and a straight tail.  And the other cats at the shelter weren’t nice to him either and the people had to put him a cage all alone and no one should have to be alone, especially when they’ve been hurt like that.  He needs someone to hug him and cuddle with him and love him and I thought you could do that since you need that sometimes too and I’m not here to do it since Mum says we can’t live together until she’s convinced I’m not permanently daft in the head.”

      “You want _me_ to keep the cat.”

      “Well… yes.”

      “Hence the pet food, the toys, the bed… that’s actually a pet collar around your wrist isn’t it?”

      “I cannot tell a lie; yes, it is.  And see, he’s a lovely gray and the purple will look so nice against his hair!”

      “Arthur, we’re in the air so often…”

      “Oh!  I asked the shelter people about that and they said as long as he has his litter and food and water and a nice place to sleep and toys to play with and maybe if you’d leave your radio on for him to listen to, he’d be ok by himself for a couple of days.  He’s not supposed to really go outside by himself since he’s… well he can’t fight off mean cats and dogs as well as other cats could, but I’ve been practicing with him on a little leash, just like the one we have for Snoopadoop and he likes it!  I got him a nice harness and we can take him for walks and he can come with us when we feed the ducks and even if we’re gone a day or two, he’ll be ok because he’ll have a nice home and know you love him and won’t ever leave him alone forever or be mean to him or anything…  It will work, Skip.  But… I mean, if you don’t want him…”

Martin looked at the small cat that was curled against Arthur’s chest peering right back at him with bright green eyes.  He was small and definitely scraggly, his tail swished with a halting motion like it had to readjust in the middle of the swing due to the kink halfway down.  He’d been hurt, abandoned, taken advantage of and finally just put someplace where everyone could forget about him.  Martin looked around his small flat and at Arthur’s wide, hopeful eyes and… there wasn’t really any decision to make.

      “It’s fine, Arthur.  He can live here if he wants to.”

      “HURRAH!  Brilliant Skip!  And don’t worry, I’ve got more supplies for him in my car and a scratching post and then we can take a nice ride in the car – Archie loves to ride in cars! – and maybe go out somewhere were there aren’t any mean cats around and let him play a bit – he won’t run away, well at least not quickly – and oh! we can take pictures and I can start a little picture album and this page will be called ‘Archie’s First Day!” because it’s his first day with his new family and… oh my, you have to say yes, Skip, or I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stand it and I’ll shake apart like when you toss a bag of rice you forgot you opened and WHOOSH! there’s rice everywhere.”

      “We can take Archie for a drive, Arthur.  You go get his things and I’ll put on some clothes.”

      “Yes!   Ok, here… I’ll put Archie right here on the bed.  Don’t fall over and squish him.”

      “I’ll do my best.”

Arthur bounded out of the flat and Martin and Archie watched him sing his way down the stairs.

      “Well, Archie… welcome to my life.”

All things considered, Archie thought… that life looked pretty good.


End file.
